Most Unlikely Of Couples
by CherryTheLioness
Summary: ShockPlays x BajanCanadian. Mitch bumps into a drunk girl passed out on the sidewalk, with a strange obligation to help her. In doing so, he finds himself in a rather strange predicament. Rated T until later chapters. Swearing, mature readers only
1. In The Corner Of My Eye

**_Hello, Cherry here, with the first story on the whole account being mine, since it was my idea to get this in the first place.  
So today, children, I bring you, a Shetch fanfiction.  
This is set roughly four years into the future, so while some things may not be realistic for this day and age, it may be in the future...I don't know if Jerome drives, to be perfectly honest, I don't care...NOTHING SHALL INTRUDE ON MY STORY!  
So, without further ado, enjoy!_**

It had been a long night, the dreary cold beating down on the city with a harsh fog that dimmed all the street lights. In the middle of it all, a small twenty year old female was walking, or staggering, down the street. A bottle of vodka in her left hand, clutching firmly in her frozen grip, she continued to fight the wooziness, not allowing herself to pass out on the street. Her drunken, clouded mind was fighting against her will, but she kept going still. Her dry, messy, unwashed black hair fell in clumps in numerous places along her shoulders and back, and her pale green eyes were fixed against the ground, trying to make sure she was walking in a straight line.  
But soon, as was expected, she fell to her knees, and then to the ground, the last thing she heard being the smashing of the liquor she'd just crushed.  
It was hard to believe that someone like this particular girl would turn to such a heavy drink. In fact, at the age of twenty, it was her first time drinking. She swore to herself that no matter how low she fell, she wouldn't ever resort to salvation from a bottle.  
That resolve had quickly shattered, never to be pieced back together, earlier that night.

Passing by, occasionally breathing out deeply to watch smoke escape his mouth, a well-known YouTuber went on his way, a jacket pulled tightly around his shivering arms. He sniffled a few times, pausing to wrap his stiff fingers around his mobile phone. The phone lit up, revealing the text messages he'd received. Nothing new, the last one asking when he would be back, since it was rather early. Placing the aglow device back in his pocket, the last thing the flash shone upon, at the corner of his eyes, across the road in fact, he noticed a fallen figure. It was typical to find passed out people here, people who had drowned their sorrows in a bottle until they couldn't remain conscious. Regardless, the small voice in his head urged him to help this person up, see if they were alright, offer to walk them home, if they remembered where they lived.  
Making sure that the road was clear of traffic, he crossed quickly, jogging to the fallen person.  
The first thing he noticed was the shattered bottle, glass scattered in every which way, the liquid slowly seeping along the concrete path. The next thing he noticed was the thin fabric beneath the strewn dead hair. Surely, this poor drunk was freezing. Huffing as he kneeled down, he carefully rolled the fallen person over, to get a better look at the situation.  
He noticed that some of the glass had smashed against her face, but only her cheek. It was bleeding, obviously, but nothing that a small clean couldn't fix. But her pale face, along with her red nose and dark circles beneath her eyes, indicated that not only was she cold and drunk, but she was very clearly sleep deprived. Quickly, he dug for his phone, nearly dropping it in his haste to grab the device, sending a text on his whereabouts, asking his close friend for a lift home. He didn't add why.

"If you ask me if we can keep it..." Jerome said blankly as he helped Mitch lift the passed out girl into the back seat of the car. Mitch rolled his eyes.  
"I don't plan on giving her VIP standard treatment here. I'm just gonna clean her head, and wait for her to wake up so she can get home," he insisted, closing the back door, and moving into the passengers seat. Jerome didn't have much of a comment to that, but he did make a complaint about her bleeding on his car.

As he'd said, once they reached the house, she got put on the couch with a blanket on her, the side of her face was cleaned, and they left her alone to bring about the hangover that would inevitably come when she woke up.

**_Hehehehe...I gusta very mucho.  
So yeah, chapter one is done. Didn't take much effort to finish, but I intend to have this going for a long time. And you have to watch it all. Muahahaha.  
Until next time, then!_**


	2. Nowhere To Go

Waking to the feel of comfort, rather then concrete, the girl slowly woke, not moving, nor opening her eyes. She had a brief moment of tranquility, before it was shattered by her hangover. As it hit her like a tonne of bricks, she let out a long, grumbling moan, rolling over and falling off the couch, her stomach twirling, her head giving off clear dizziness.  
"Fuck that..." she hissed between her teeth, remaining on the floor for a minute. She inhaled deeply, the scent of toast hitting her nose. Her eyes peeled open a crack, then quickly shut when the blinding light invaded.  
"I'm so goddamn stupid," she groaned into the floor.  
"First step is admitting you have a problem," a voice said from above. Not bothering to open her eyes, the girl's arms flopped outwards in awkward positions.  
"It's not...it's not a problem." she mumbled, coughing against the ground as the strong liquor threatened to reappear. She heard a huff of satisfaction.  
"Alright, sure. So, how's your hangover?" he asked, sincerity in his voice.  
"Fuckin' terrific," she replied in a grumble. A small chuckle was the reply.  
Finally deciding to open her eyes, she glared at the floor before looking up.  
"Fuuuuuuck thaaaaaaaaaat..." she repeated, forcing her limbs to behave as she pushed herself onto her knees, balled fists against the carpet holding her up.  
"You'll be alright. So, what's your name?"  
"Shelly..." she replied, pushing her matted black hair out of her face.  
"Well, Shelly, next time you go drinking your sorrows away, don't go for the vodka unless your house is close by. Mitch, by the way." he said. Shelly slowly raised her head, and widened her eyes.  
"So, BajanCanadian, eh?" she said, raising an eyebrow. Mitch pulled a face.  
"Maybe, sorta, kinda, yeah." he said, bracing himself for a fangirling.  
"Cool," she said, pulling herself up into an unbalanced stand. "Oooooh, okay, got it. Well, I never thought I'd see the day where I meet my idol...pretty interesting circumstance, though." Mitch raised his eyebrows in surprise.  
"You're not freaking out?" he said distantly. Shelly gave him a look that blatently said 'Really?'. "Okay, then I must be some idol." Mitch joked, glancing over his shoulder.  
"There's no use out-fanning myself and looking half insane in front of people I admire. Especially not when I have a hangover...god, how the hell do alcoholics do this all the time?" Shelly mumbled, clutching at her head. Mitch grinned.  
"Why don't you go ask one?"  
"I'd...really rather not."  
"Alright, so where do ya live so we can give you a lift or whatever." Mitch said, scratching the back of his head for a moment.  
"Uh...I just got kicked out of my hotel room...so nowhere." she admitted. Mitch gave her a look, trying to detect a lie. When he saw the seriousness on her face, he sighed.  
"Alright...you got any doods who would let you board?"  
She shook her head. "Not unless I'm going back to Australia, and believe me, I don't have the money for a plane ticket." Mitch fought the urge to throw up his hands in frustration.  
"You don't have a job?"  
"No. I got fired almost a year ago, and my little YouTube career isn't going so well." Shelly replied, her hands doing a little dance as she said 'YouTuve career'.  
"Uh, alright. You...stay. I'll go see if there's anything I can do." Mitch said, turning and jogging out of the room.  
Now left in peace, Shelly put her head in her hands.  
"This is not how I expected to meet anyone."

-

"Oh, you're the drunk we lugged home last night!" Jerome said as he walked into the living room. Shelly looked up, sighing.  
"If that's how you're gonna address me, I might have to hit you." she said with a raised eyebrow.  
"Ah, hangover speaking there. So, I'm guessing Mitch already spoke to you?" he asked.  
"How'd you know?" Shelly replied in a blank tone.  
"Probably by the way he's pacing in the kitchen wondering what he's gonna do. I've only ever seen him do that over a failed render, and his computer's not even turned on, so...yeah." Jerome said.  
"So, that means you know who we are?"  
"Okay, don't put yourselves on a podium," Shelly said, though a smile crept over her face. He laughed, nodding.  
"Yeah, alright. Well, we'll figure out something for ya, don't worry." he told her knowingly.  
"Heh, I doubt it. I can see myself being tossed back onto the streets, Jerome." she said, gripping her hands together. Jerome sighed, and was about to open his mouth, when Mitch returned to the room.  
"Alright, Shelly, here's the offer I'm gonna make ya. If you're okay with sleeping on the couch, you can camp here, but only until you get enough money for a house, okay? And don't bother us while we're recording." he added. Shelly sighed.  
"Yep, alright. Better then living in a box." she said.  
"Don't you ask, Mitch, don't you even." Jerome said quickly, noticing Mitch's devious grin in his direction.  
"Can we keep it?" he dragged out the sentance playfully, tugging on the side of Jerome's shirt for added effect. Jerome bopped him on the head, walking out.  
"I'm not an 'it'." Shelly said, looking around for a moment, her head still throbbing.  
"You could be, if you really wanted." Mitch protested. Rolling her eyes with a small smile, Shelly put her hands on her hips.  
"So, do I get the grand tour, or do I just live on the couch?"  
"You live on the co-just kidding, come on."


	3. The Boys Are Back In Town

**_Hey people, sorry for not updating sooner. I had to sort out my whole bedroom because in three days, I'm going to uni! Woo-hoo!  
So, I've recieved a lot of positive feedback here, and I'd just like to say thank you for the people who have reviewed so far. I'm glad you're enjoying my story.  
This chapter is set around two months later.  
But I won't keep you any longer. Onwards to the story!_**

It took some time to explain to the rest of the Team Crafted members what a basically homeless girl was doing in the house, but after a while, they understood. And they noticed alongside that, that Shelly was looking everywhere for a job, yet was turned down every time. Luck just wasn't swaying in her direction, and she was clearly going mental over it.  
One afternoon, Jerome walked into the living room to find her face first on the floor.  
"What are you doing?" he asked, stifling a laugh.  
"The floorboards were lonely." she replied sarcastically, standing back up.  
"I'm sure they were. The whole crew is coming over tomorrow for a livestream. Just thought you might want to know." he said, flopping down on the couch. She gave him a raised eyebrow.  
"All of 'em?" she asked. He nodded. "Damn. That's heavy." she breathed, falling onto the other cushin. She paused for a moment, turning to him. "They know I'm here, right?"  
"Yeah, Ryan's idea." he said. Shelly nodded.  
"Right. So it's either going to be all happy fun times, or awkward. Got it." she said, getting up from the couch and walking out of the room, passing Mitch on the way.  
"I think she needs a computer." Mitch said, gaining Jerome's attention. Jerome scoffed.  
"I think she needs a job."  
"She's trying." Mitch said with a sigh.  
"We can't just throw out several hundred dollars for a computer for someone who's moving out the minute they can, Mitch."  
"Well, I'll do it then."  
"You're crazy."  
"And you're a bacca."

-The following day-

Shelly had been left alone in the house as Mitch and Jerome went to the airport to collect their friends, but it didn't affect her much, since she'd just fallen back asleep.  
However, at around four in the afternoon, the rowdy bunch of guys tromped into the house, waking her.  
"Crafted House, sweet Crafted House." came the voice of Adam, forcing Shelly to make herself seem more alert. She sat up, wiped her eyes, and listened to the active moving.  
"Oh hey, is that her?" a hushed voice asked, barely distinguishable as Ian.  
"Don't treat her like an alien, go say hello. Go" Mitch said loudly. As soon as he'd said it, Ian awkwardly stumbled into the room, and Shelly assumed that Mitch had pushed him. How cute.  
The rest of the team followed him through, and Shelly did suddenly feel like an alien.  
"Is there a giant glass case I should be standing in? A museum, or something?" she asked, watching the parade of people entering the room. This caused a brief stream of chuckling.  
"Alright, so that's Shelly, she is a human, don't worry too much." Mitch started. Adam cut in quickly.  
"What else do you have hidden in your drawers?"  
"She...didn't come from my drawers. Anyway, yeah. Shelly, you gonna...introduce yourself better then I am, because I'm fucking this up." Mitch finished, along with Adam trying very hard not to laugh.  
"I...like stuff." Shelly said with a shrug. Chuckles met her sarcastic remark.  
"I'm not a very interesting person, that's all I got."  
"Naaar, come on!" Adam whined.  
"Oh fine," she breathed, clearing her throat. "I like food and video games, and when I actually HAD a computer, I did YouTube stuff as well." she said. Mitch's face twisted into a confused expression for a moment. He shook it off as he and Jerome went to set up the livestream, and the rest of the team went gallavanting off to do their own thing for a while.

**_Kind of a filler, sorry. I'm just really tired, been a busy few days. I'll try to write as much as I can before I go to uni, not sure when I can upload though._**


End file.
